


Olive the Obscene

by Seagoatink



Series: Obscene Obscure Omnipotent [1]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9959813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: At this point, he was pretty much her boss. Granted he was not letting her stay with him just because he needed someone to write his public statements for him. Tony moved her in so she could get away from her family. The fact that she was well-written was just a bonus. “I want to tell the government to go fuck themselves, but kindly… And with a brick covered in fire ants,” the man finally responded.“Oh gosh,” Olive replied. Her head drooped and hung slack. “Gimme the papers, I need to know what I’m replying to,” she said, stretching a hand and half her body across the island.





	

Living in Stark Tower was weird. It was like some fever dream. Only this was not some fever dream with so many twists and turns that Olive had whiplash. It was a good dream where she did not wake up in a cold sweat. Instead she woke up on top of a firm pillow and a soft bed under a comforter and a heavy quilt.

The blinds must have been on an automatic system to let in the light, because there they were turning to let the sun in through the wall of windows. She was twenty-two years old and still hated waking up to the blinding light of the sun. Someone knocked on the door, but it did not open.

After throwing on a night-T, as Olive called the T-shirt several sizes too big and elongated at the waist, and a pair of pajama pants that she managed to take with her she slid the door open. “Huh?” She asked as she painfully pulled sleep from her long eyelashes. No one was there, but resting on the tall decor table beside the door lay two cell phone boxes and an envelope.

She left her room full of boxes, as her cats slipped out through the cracked door. Olive would have failed at stopping them if she so much as tried. But her back hurt and she saw no point. Tony told her the floor was hers, at least most of it.

By the looks of it, he had several assistants working early in the morning after she finally arrived at the tower at four in the morning. Her only concern at that time was making sure her backpack and cats made it upstairs. Glancing around the open floor, she found several more boxes and around the corner even more. On the kitchen island sat a few boxes of basic kitchen necessities in a vibrant purple, her favorite color. 

One of the cell phones in the boxes began to ring. Startled, she dropped the boxes and the envelope and fell to the floor with them, desperate to figure out what was going on. The ringing phone finally found its way into Olive’s fumbling hands. “Hello?” She asked with uncertainty.

“Morning, Sunshine,” sounded Tony’s voice, chipper as he ever did sound. “Did I wake you?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

Olive felt tears stream from her eyes. It had been a while since someone was concerned for her out of the blue. It had been quite a while. “No, no, the uh… The curtains did the turn thing and,” she breathed in deeply hoping to ease the anxiety from her voice. “Sun woke me up.”

“Yeah, it tends to do that,” Tony agreed nonchalantly. “Mind if I come up? Or you wanna come down and talk? I’m on the tenth floor,” he offered. 

She supposed he was trying to make sure she was comfortable, but that was the problem with phone calls versus face to face conversations or texts back and forth. “I, uh, you can come up,” she decided as her eyes dragged across the objects in the room. The elevator ride was sure to mess with her balance anyway.

He hung up.

Olive entered the kitchen area, the space was marked off by the difference in flooring. The floor was sparkling it was so clean and in the light it even glittered. Above her the studio style lights were tilted in every direction, and had they been turned on she was sure they would have produced more than enough light. The fridge and freezer were void of any food or condiments which Olive would have gladly downed.

She sighed and hoisted herself onto the island’s granite top. Her large tabby cat joined her on the surface and rubbed up against her arms, begging for attention. Olive rubbed at the back of his ears, unable to scratch, because she bit her nails as short as she could. Still the cat purred loudly and leaned into the touch.

The was a knock on the entryway door, causing both the tabby and her other cat to avert their attention to the door. “Come on in,” Olive said, making sure to raise her voice so Tony could hear her.

Tony opened the door and spotted Olive with her tabby on the counter. She was kicking her legs contently against the cabinets. “You look like Hell, when did you get here?” Tony asked as he closed the door behind him, noting that neither of the cats tried to leave through the door. 

“I dunno, like four a.m.?” Olive guessed, tilting her head to the side as she dug through her brain to find the answer. “Yeah, like four or something. And I brought some stuff up on the little, red flyer wagon I’ve got,” she added, pointing to the worn and slightly rusted, children’s wagon by the bar stools on the other side of the island.

He leaned onto the island top on his arms and his fingers knit together. “How’re you liking it? Comfortable?” Tony inquired, acting skittish.

The young woman hopped off of the counter with a gymnast's form to mimic his posture on the other side of the counter. “I only just woke up after passing out with the bare necessities,” Olive pointed out. She raised her eyebrows at him. “What’s got you wired?” She finally asked, hoping it was not too forward of her to ask straight out.

At this point, he was pretty much her boss. Granted he was not letting her stay with him just because he needed someone to write his public statements for him. Tony moved her in so she could get away from her family. The fact that she was well-written was just a bonus. “I want to tell the government to go fuck themselves, but kindly… And with a brick covered in fire ants,” the man finally responded.

“Oh gosh,” Olive replied. Her head drooped and hung slack. “Gimme the papers, I need to know what I’m replying to,” she said, stretching a hand and half her body across the island.

Tony complied and also stretched out across the island to meet her like The Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling. When she snatched them from his grip she moved to sit on one of the bar stools. Her tabby beside her, nuzzling her hand. “What’s that one’s name?” Tony said, nodding his head at the tabby.

Her eyes left the paper and she met him with a wide stare. “Do you really wanna know?” She asked, wanting to assure his certainty in the matter.

The man nodded. “Yes.” The question only set him on edge and he licked his lower lip in anticipation. “I really want to know.”

“It’s DJ Busta Nut,” Olive replied with a shit eating grin. “The other one is Princess Zelda, like the video games,” the woman added. She looked around trying to find Zelda, but the pudgy black cat was missing. 

“You’re kidding me!” Tony let out a guffaw and slapped the granite. 

Olive only shook her head. She bit her lip and returned her attention to the papers Tony handed her only a few moments ago. “I got him with an ex who wasn’t paying attention to me, took a popular vote with all his friends while he was in a call,” she explained. “Before he was DJ Busta Nut, he was Master Yi-haw.”

If the man was not dying of laughter before, he was now.

“I just call him Bean most of the time,” Olive added quietly as the cat scurried away and back into the confines of her room. “Can I write on this?” She asked, tapping the paper with her finger.

“Preferably not,” replied Tony, his chin receding into his neck. “Let me get you a copy…”

Olive removed herself from the stool like she was dismounting a horse and followed him out the door. “I, uh, I haven’t really seen much of Stark Tower,” she admitted, even though she was sure he knew she passed out almost immediately after her drive. “Also, you think I could stock up my fridge with some food after this?”

Tony stopped for a moment so he could put his arm around her shoulder when she caught up. “Well this is your home now, so we can squeeze in a tour,” he promised with a grin. “And we can snatch up some food too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally a Self-Insert the the T Olive is me just thrown into the Marvel Universe under the assumption that the Avengers would give a fuck about me. My cat, sadly, was not actually renamed DJ Busta Nut, primarily because I can't tell children that that's his name. Heartbreaking fact, I know.


End file.
